


Reaching Through The Lens

by RovingPool1, supremeleaderlindz



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Disney World & Disneyland, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Opposites Attract, Rey is an Aussie because I can't write Brits to save my life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23071714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RovingPool1/pseuds/RovingPool1, https://archiveofourown.org/users/supremeleaderlindz/pseuds/supremeleaderlindz
Summary: Ben Solo is a hobby photographer, fresh out of college and using Disney World as a distraction from the crushing weight of insecurity he feels at his first "adult" job. Rey is an Australian college program cast member, playing "Kira," the heroine from the famous space opera, enjoying her half year of freedom from the restraints of school and family. Ben wants to know more about the girl with the piercing eyes under the wig and wraps - but she won't break character.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 17
Kudos: 47





	1. He's Useless, Kira.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ellensama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellensama/gifts).



> This has been an intense labor of love. The prompt sent me spiraling into my own memory - not necessarily a bad thing, but not necessarily a great thing - but the words didn't come as easily as I wanted them to. Therefore, short chapter. More to come, soon, I promise!

Ben’s first camera was a Polaroid OneStep+. It wasn’t much, and his pale hands dwarfed it when he lifted it from his chest by the black canvas strap he was talked into purchasing with it, but it was easy to use and a good way to decide if photography was really for him before he invested more money into his newest hobby. Some things had changed in his life recently; college graduation and moving back home from both the city he had lived in for four years and the friends he had come to know as family, his new “adult job,” a shiny new car (a gorgeous yellow convertible mustang that he had no business paying as much as he would be monthly for but god it felt good to drive), a new fish named Cornelia, and a new pair of round gold framed glasses that he tried to wear as infrequently as possible. Some things never change, though, like his love for Disney World and how grateful he was that he could now afford an annual pass.

Disney World is where Ben found himself nearly every day he had off; whether it was strolling through Disney Springs on a (humid) evening going in and out of the shops, reliving his childhood with a Mickey premium ice cream bar sitting on a curb people watching on Main Street at the Magic Kingdom, or enjoying the easy life eating dinner at one of the resorts. It was an easy escape from the _shit show_ for lack of a better term his life had become since college ended. When he was there, nothing else mattered, and that was part of the reason he had chosen photography. What better way to document the one place that felt like home?

The newest addition to the resort was Galaxy’s Edge, a land based off of the famous space opera that had just celebrated the release of the next movie in their trilogy. Ben hadn’t explored it just yet, and a weekday after a few big storms seemed like the best time. 

The ground beneath his feet changed from the dark sandy colored cement of the last big opening, Toy Story Land, to a lighter color as he changed lands. Large rock walls began to surround him, and the trash cans changed (the small things mean the most at Disney) from bright to a light wooden color with a dark top half with mysterious symbols on the sides. The lack of a crowd gave for a sense of calming unease, a feeling that he could close his eyes and breathe in and suddenly be on an actual distant planet in a galaxy far far away. He passed a small merchandise stand, a few photo opportunities with various fighter jets, and wove his way into the marketplace. Netting, beads, and ropes hung from the top, leaving little room for sunlight to hit the ground. Flanking him as he walked were small shops filled with, what he had read, merchandise exclusive to the land. He stopped at one to feel a small woven Chewbacca plush before continuing on. He was here to see one thing and one thing only.

 _The Millenium Falcon._ In all its glory, it stood about as close to scale as Ben imagined it would be, surrounded by a small fence to discourage tourists from doing more than marveling at a distance. There wasn’t a person in sight. He lifted his camera and raised it to his eye, stepping back to fit the entire _Falcon_ into his photo, when a voice interrupted his focus.

“Do you have a screwdriver?”

Ben stumbled, camera dropping to his chest with a _thud,_ and he thanked his lucky stars that he had been talked into the strap.

“Sorry to interrupt your photography, but this is urgent,” the voice pleaded.

He whirled around, and to his astonishment, Kira herself was standing there in all her gauzy glory, white outfit starched to perfection and staff firmly in her grip. Her brown hair, tied into her signature three buns, was gleaming in the sunlight, and the strands in front of her ears blew lazily in the wind. Chewbacca was beside her, his fuzzy head cocked to the side waiting for a reply. Beside him was who Ben assumed was their character attendant, the responsible party of the two of them to keep them from harassment and on schedule. Her face dropped in response to his lack of response.

“He’s useless, Kira,” the character attendant said, and the trio began to walk away.

“W-wait,” Ben stuttered, lifting his camera again. “Can I take your photo?”

Chewbacca and the character attendant continued walking towards a small group of tourists that had congregated on the other side of the _Falcon_ , cameras up, but Kira paused and turned to him with a smile. She crouched into a fighting stance, staff in front of her.

“One photo,” she allowed, “But hurry, I’m hiding from the First Order and I can’t stay in one place for too long.”

Ben crouched down, aware of the impressive size difference between them, and lined up the shot. With a _snap_ the photo was taken and printing out of the top.

“Can’t have you captured,” he played along, wondering why she would stay in character despite it only being the two of them within earshot. He pulled the photo off the camera and began shaking it as it developed.

“It would be a crushing blow to the resistance,” Kira agreed, straightening up and closing the distance between them.

She smelled like sunshine with a hint of vanilla.

“I, uh,” Ben started.

“Well, let me see it,” she prodded, the top of her head just reaching his shoulder as he stood to his full height. She looked up at him, and he noticed her eyes weren’t the same hazel as Kira from the movies, but a very light honey brown.

He handed her the photo. She touched it gingerly, holding it from the corner and smiling widely.

“A gorgeous photo. A lovely souvenir from a visit to a distant planet, although it would be a shame if you didn’t try or buy any of the other delicacies this place has to offer.”

She handed him the photo back, and with a wink, she walked away. 


	2. I hope he's looking.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away. Just before she took the final steps that would place her out of his vision, she used her quarterstaff to flick up the back of her tunic. Allowing him a quick view of the way her butt filled out the tight, white pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll revisit the chapter count when I finish plotting. Enjoy :)

Rey knew that there were an inordinate number of people who would give anything to be in her position; portraying intergalactic hero Kira - the most recent protagonist of possibly the most famous movie franchise of all time – at Walt Disney World. But as she adjusted the placement of her arm wrappings, making her costume ‘show ready’, she knew she’d have given it all up for a coffee.

 _You would think they’d know better than to schedule International Programmers on the Tuesday morning shift_. 

She had tried to explain to her co-ordinator, a perpetually grumpy man named Armitage, that she had a standing commitment every Monday night. And while to most people that might have sounded like she was spending her Monday evening’s working for an escort service, Armitage, having been a CP a few years prior, knew exactly what she was talking about. It never seemed to affect her shifts though, she was always Rey 1 on Tuesday morning, and every Tuesday morning she would step off the bus with bags around her eyes and the smell of alcohol on her clothes.

Rey didn’t like ‘Happy Mondays’, but she was obligated to go. Her roommate, a boisterous, Australian bogan named Rose, was the Prime Minister of the ANZAC Girls, and without someone to keep her in check she had a habit of getting into all kinds of trouble. As the resident non-drinker in their friend group, babysitting Rose was Rey’s responsibility.

She allowed herself a moment to close her eyes - something she’d been avoiding out of fear that her glued-on eyelashes were so heavy she’d find herself incapable of opening them again – and cursed Rose under her breath.

 _God, I’m so tired._

If she had done the program a year earlier, like she initially intended too, her costume would have been smoke grey, like the one that Kira had worn in the second movie of her trilogy, and – although she’d still have to drink through a straw – she’d have been allowed more than just the clear liquids that the tight, egg-shell white costume forced her to consume. But plans changed, she was here now, and she knew that she already had it so much better than all of the non-face-character performers.

She checked the clock, two-minutes until she was scheduled to be ‘on-stage’. She did her final checks. Her lightsaber was hanging from the clip on her right-side, her blaster was holstered off her right hip. She checked her make-up in the mirror and adjusted the criss-cross straps of her tunic to prevent any hint of cleavage from showing. Confident that she was as ready as she could be on the limited amount of sleep she’d had; she left the trailer.

Kira was a _roaming character_. So, for the most part, Rey walked around Galaxy’s Edge _hiding_ from the First Order. Her and Chewbacca would inject themselves into groups of people as patrols walked by, or hide behind garbage cans and pillars. Every now and again she’d go up to someone and ask if they had a screwdriver or question a heavily bearded person about what part of Kashyyk they were from. Chewie always seemed to enjoy that; the Character Attendant less so.

The March of the First Order began blaring through the Batuu speaker system. In an instant Rey found herself hiding behind a pillar, awaiting the procession of Storm Troopers that inevitably followed. She waited, and just as she was about to break her cover, a voice stopped her.

“Not yet. They’re in the market.”

She turned, her hand instinctively dropping to her blaster. The man standing in the sunlight towered over her, a polaroid camera hung from a thick black strap around his neck, in his arms he held a small woven Chewbacca plush.

_He took my photo a few days ago._

“I think you’re safe, the storm troopers are busy harassing a child that’s trying to smuggle in an Ewok.”

Rey pulled her blaster, pointing it at the handsome man’s face: “Where did you get that?” she said, gesturing to the Chewbacca plush.

“I bought it at the market,” he replied, clearly confused.

“You’re lucky my friend Chewbacca isn’t here. He’d rip your arms off for engaging in the purchase of Wookie children. The first order has kept them as slaves since the Empire was defeated. They’re selling them to rich travellers to fund their super weapons.”

She knew that he couldn’t have worked for the mouse, his hair was too long, it wouldn’t have been Disney look. He brushed it away from his eyes, locking them on hers. “You think I would engage in the slave trade?” He asked. “It’s a travesty I couldn’t save more. This one will be returned to its rightful family, you have my word.”

She lowered her blaster. “See to it that it does.”

Her character attendant, Poe, called to her: “Kira, the Troopers are distracted, we have to go, now.”

She turned back to the handsome man, “I hope I see you again, the Resistance needs more men like you.”

It was so often that Rey found herself surrounded by the fake smiles of people posing for pictures that she had almost forgotten what a genuine smile looked like, or what it could do. His eyes crinkled, his mouth opened slightly, and it made her feel warm, so warm that she didn’t even realise she was returning his smile with one of her own.

She turned to go.

“W-wait,” he stuttered.

_He runs his fingers through his hair when he’s nervous._

“I’m Ben, Ben Solo.”

And for a moment, Rey considered breaking character, telling him that her name was Rey Niima, and she was from the far off world of Greensborough, Australia. But the feeling was fleeting. So when she spoke, she instead said: “I’m Kira, good luck, Ben Solo.”

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away. Just before she took the final steps that would place her out of his vision, she used her quarterstaff to flick up the back of her tunic. Allowing him a quick view of the way her butt filled out the tight, white pants.

_I hope he’s looking._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hope you guys enjoyed this glimpse into Rey's perspective! Moving forward, not every chapter will be a POV switch, but you will be diving into their respective heads a lot more. Updates planned weekly. If you need more clarification on Disney College Program specifics, please ask! Coming up next - more flirtatious meetings, new character introductions - and maybe a date?


	3. You're not American.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Either you really love this space opera, or you keep coming around to see me.”
> 
> She had turned to face him, hands on her hips and mouth tight, slightly craning her neck to look him in the eyes. He leaned back against the cool cement wall.
> 
> “You, uh, you’re not American,” was all he managed to spit out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update - hopefully it's worth the wait! New things - still no chapter count, but the rating has been changed to Explicit because of things to come, starting with vague description in this chapter. Enjoy!

Two weeks and two infuriating meetings later, Ben now had three polaroids wedged into the back of his clear phone case, and they teased him the way Kira did every time he looked at them. She had escaped his questioning the third time by _accidentally_ pushing him into the path of two stormtroopers, and had dodged his pleas the fourth time by what he assumed was a hand signal to alert the character attendant that she was ready to move on. That time, the short man with dark hair and eyes had scolded him for interfering with the resistance and dragged Kira away as she winked at Ben. At this point, he felt borderline pathetic, and honestly a little creepy, but she always gave him the same sly grin and she always had that mischievous sparkle in her eyes, like she was keeping a secret that she was waiting for _just the right moment_ to tell him. So he persevered.

  
  


It was a humid Tuesday morning, and Ben had a plan. He didn’t know if Kira would be there or not, but he hoped, and he had brought a wingman. Finn, his best friend from college, was by his side in his full space opera gear ready for a big day at the parks. They had a long history together of alcoholism, girl drama, and cheating on tests, things that bond you for life. They had mostly cleaned up their acts since graduation, but Finn still had a cocktail from the cantina in one hand and his phone in the other, filming as they walked through the land.

“This is so fucking cool,” he exclaimed, turning to get Ben in the shot. Ben stuck his tongue out for the video, laughing.

“I can’t believe you haven’t been here yet, it took you long enough to get your pass.”

“Yeah, I just didn’t think I would use it that much, you know? But I’m about to be here all day, every day, baby.” Finn turned around to follow two stormtroopers walking by, stopped by a clap on the shoulder from Ben.

“We’re on a mission, Finn,” Ben said, rolling his eyes.

“Right, right.” He quit filming. “Mission Impossible: Get The Girl.”

Ben frowned, lifting his camera as they neared the _Falcon_. “Fuck off.”

Finn laughed, snapped a few photos of the ship, then tucked his phone into his pocket before downing the rest of his drink. He lifted his arms out to the sides, spinning around gleefully.

“We’re in a galaxy far, far away, Ben. Anything is possible. Even in yet another white shirt and shorts with a hole in a bad spot.”

“Hole in a _what_?” Ben exclaimed, looking down at - yep - a hole in the upper inner thigh of his shorts. An all too familiar voice distracted him from what likely would have been a more embarrassing move - the finger in the pants hole one. 

“Interesting that I can spend entire days scavenging wrecks and dragging cargo and yet take better care of my clothing than you.”

Thankful that he hadn’t yet made an entire fool out of himself, Ben stood back up and rolled his shoulders, vaguely aware of the side-eye Finn, now frozen in place, was giving him.

“Your friend should be wary of how much he consumes,” Kira continued, beginning to circle them like a lioness summing up her prey. The First Order is out in full force today. I wouldn’t want you getting the shake down from those stormtroopers again.”

Finn laughed, nudging Ben’s side. “Damn, she’s good. I get it now.”

The character attendant closed in, the same one that had chastised Ben during their last meeting, but this time Kira didn’t seem as keen to leave. She shot the character attendant a _look_ , but was ignored as he opened his mouth.

“Do you work out?” Finn asked before the short, muscular man could speak. His voice, heavy with the tone he used to get a free extra shot at the bar, pouring out of his mouth like honey.

The character attendant made a _who, me?_ gesture, and Finn nodded, taking a step closer, wrapping a hand around the man’s bicep.

“I think you do. I think you really know your way around a gym.” He rubbed his hand up towards the man’s shoulder, using his other to wave Ben away. “These muscles don’t happen by accident. Tom Hardy would be jealous of these traps. Mad Max who? I only know,” he wrapped his fingers around the oval-shaped tag, pinned to the character attendants chest. “Poe.”

Ben and Kira locked eyes, and Ben saw the same mischievous sparkle along with something he couldn’t quite place, and dark bags underneath that weren’t usually there. She began to walk away, motioning for him to follow. She stopped twice, once for a small child wearing a smaller version of her outfit and once to take a photo with someone that wouldn’t quit tailing them. Both times Ben tried to walk away, but both times she gave him a _don’t you dare_ look. Eventually, they made their way to the front of the land, and suddenly they were between a rock formation and a very non Disney looking cement wall, just enough around a corner that they could neither see nor be seen. He had been taken backstage.

“Either you really love this space opera, or you keep coming around to see me.”

She had turned to face him, hands on her hips and mouth tight, slightly craning her neck to look him in the eyes. He leaned back against the cool cement wall.

“You, uh, you’re not American,” was all he managed to spit out.

“Australian. Why do you keep coming here? Why do you keep trying to talk to me? I’m giving you your requested audience right here, right now.”

“I really love the space opera. And I like you,” Ben admitted, hoping the darkened hallway hid the blush he felt coloring his face.

“You don’t even know me,” Kira laughed, dropping her arms to her side, leaning against the opposite wall. 

“That’s the point, I’m trying.” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, flipping it to show her that her photos decorated his case.

Her eyes softened. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. You can hear it in my voice, I am truly from a galaxy far, far away, and I’ll be returning there when my college program ends.”

“We could be friends.” Ben suggested.

“Friends know each other’s names.” She responded. “And mine is not Kira.”

“Well, what is it?” He slipped his phone back into his pocket, running his other hand through his hair.

And Ben noticed that when something puzzled her, you could see the gears of her mind work on her face, as if a million different universes were beginning and ending behind the light honey-brown of her eyes.

"I'm Rey," she said after what felt like forever but couldn't have actually been more than a moment. "Rey Niima. Now, I have to go back to work. And you have to rescue your friend from Poe before he's in too deep. He's exactly Poe's type."

  
  


“You did _what_?” Ben laughed, gingerly sipping the last of his blue milk as he and Finn made their way towards the front of the park. The sun was setting low, their feet were tired, and Finn had sobered up enough to finally tell him what had happened while he and Kira - _Rey_ \- had their moment.

“I didn’t actually do it,” Finn clarified, switching his merchandise bags to his other arm. “I offered to do it, he looked interested, and then you two came back. I never had to follow through. I do wish I had gotten his number though, I think he’d be fun. Can you _please_ hold this droid for me? I’m dying here. I almost sucked a dick for you.”

Ben laughed and took the custom built droid from Finn. “Aren’t you straight?”

“So are noodles until you get them wet, and I was wet.” 

Ben waved to the cast member stationed at the exit, and they were out of the park.

“Tram or walk?” he asked, pausing and slowly lifting one foot at a time to gage how much further he thought he could walk.

“Tram or you’re dead, you don’t have to carry hundreds of dollars worth of shit but someone does and that someone is exhausted.”

“I prefer to walk,” a familiar, but difficult to place voice chimed in. 

Ben didn’t have to turn this time, she was next to him, and she was _Rey_. Gone was the wig with three buns, in place was short shoulder length hair the color of dark chocolate, a stark contrast to her light eyes. She was wearing what appeared to be a large basketball jersey over gym shorts, and she had a giant backpack slung over one shoulder.

“I’ll take this tram, maybe you can take the next one, I’ll need the whole row for all my stuff,” Finn said slyly, reaching out to grab the droid from Ben, who handed it over without a glance in his friend’s direction.

“I can’t though,” she continued, “because they have these really old buses that they force us to take. It’s probably too far of a walk anyway, but I’d give it a go.”

“Is there a point to this conversation?” Ben asked, smirking as he crossed his arms.

“The point is, I think _friends_ should get to know each other. Over mountain melts. God’s food. So maybe you could pick me up tomorrow at this time so I don’t have to take the bus, and we could go get one.” She smiled widely at him.

“It’s a date.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: THE DATE. DUN DUN DUN. The ultimate goal is to be updating every 3-4 days, so expect the wait to be short and sweet.


End file.
